SpellFyre
by ericwinter
Summary: After the Wizarding war, Harry was tired. So much was lost, so many of his loved ones dead. So when he was told that the Veil of Death might actually be a passage to another world, he leapt at the chance to pass through, searching for the lost Sirius. There, however, he finds another war, one with swords, dragons, elves, and evil kings. Can he survive, or will Harry finally fall?
1. Chapter 1

**So… this is a thing I've had stuck in my brain for a while, and I** _ **really**_ **want to do. I am, however, perfectly aware of the state of my already existing stories, and how I have more than enough. So, here's the plan. I'm going to set this up as its own story for now, but pay close attention to how much feedback it gets. If it's a lot, then I will continue this story. If not, I will simply put it in One, Two, Five, and leave it for some other date. Read, Review, and Enjoy!**

XXX

" _Be careful, Harry. We don't know what you'll find on the other side. We don't even know if there_ is _an other side, and chances are you won't be coming back, regardless."_

" _I'll be fine, 'Mione. After all, what have I got left to lose?"_

XXX

Despite his words, Harry Potter was cautious as he stepped through the whispering veil, his entire body tensed to run at the slightest sign of danger. But there was nothing on the other side, no wild beast or dark wizard with a curse on the tip of his tongue. Instead, the dark-haired man stepped into what looked like an ancient castle, bare and silent. The room, in particular, appeared to be a dining hall of some kind, with cold stone walls and long tables draped with ancient and tattered silk. A glance behind revealed that the Veil of Death, as expected, had disappeared. He had spent his one-way ticket, and in its place stood a large hearth, cold for years.

Everything about the place screamed abandoned. Dust layered thickly across the tables and mantle, and danced in the light streaming through two open-air windows. Oak doors that looked as if they were about to collapse under their own weight led to other parts of the castle, three in a slight mental shrug, Harry decided that standing in an empty dining hall wasn't likely to get him anywhere, and so he picked a door at random.

Perhaps ironically, the portal turned out ot lead to a library, smaller than the one at Hogwarts, but much too large for a personal collection. The books, as well, were covered with dust, and as he opened one carefully, it creaked with age. Harry was quick to set it back down as Hermione's voice echoed in his ears from their school days, warning him to be careful with books. Sending the witch a mental apology, he beat a hasty retreat and promised himself he would return after investigating his new home.

The second door, again chosen at random, led into a barracks. Or at least, that was what he assumed it was, given the thirty or so bunks lined up against the walls, each with a small chest sitting at its foot. For a short second, Harry thought about searching the chests, but thought better of it. Abandoning his old life did not mean abandoning his morals, and privacy had always been important to him. Once again, Harry left without disturbing anything, a slight sense of disappointment building within him. When he had stepped through the veil, the wizard expected… something. Not a dusty little castle that took twenty minutes to explore. Even worse, he had yet to find anything even hinting at an exit.

It was the third door, which he had nearly missed in his original cursory glance, hidden by a shadowed alcove as it was, that finally revealed something interesting. Inside was perhaps the only rom untouched by dust, a small study with a bed, only slightly more ornate than the ones in the barracks. Even as he crossed the threshold, Harry knew this room was important. The air buzzed with magic, that skittering, electrical sensation he had become so familiar with for the last half of his the corner a small staircase led upwards, possibly to the rest of the castle, but Harry ignored it, stepping deeper into the room instead. The wizard could feel something probing him, some ancient sentience that tested his heart and soul. He was mesmerized by the feeling as the air, previously so dead and stale, stirred suddenly, rising and rising until he stood in the middle of a self-contained gale, one that whipped at his skin like lashes. Harry stood his ground, however. He had survived far worse than the biting chill that pervaded his bones and tearing wind, and some unknown instinct told him this moment was important.]

As quickly as it started, the phenomenon died. In an instant, Harry stood alone in an empty and quiet room, just as dead as the rest of the castle. At first, he thought he had failed the unspoken test, that in his defiance he had been found wanting. But just as he was about to step back, to walk away and up the small staircase, he was stopped by the sound of stone grinding on stone. Harry watched as, with great deliberation, the study's back wall slid open to reveal an alcove even smaller than the cupboard he had once lived in. The wizard wasted no time in walking towards it, curiosity burning in his mind.

Inside were but three items. The first, a small, leather-bound tome that appeared to be more journal than book, held little immediate interest to he might find some much-needed information within it in time, but for now the other two objects held his attention. The second was a sheathed sword, whose covering was bone-white and smooth like glass, with a small silver rune from some unknown language carved into it base. The pommel, which fit into his hand like it had been forged for him, was the black of a depthless void, devouring what little light touched it, In a sharp contrast was the small pearl enclosed within that shone iridescently. Carefully, Harry lifted the weapon from its resting place, marveling at the weight and balance of it. Even Gryffindor's sword, made by the ruler of the goblin nations in the founder's era himself, had never felt like this, as if it were an extension of more than just his arm, but his very soul. When he drew the blade however, steel sliding against leather as if it were air, Harry could do little but gasp. If he had thought the sword beautiful before, than he was a blind man. Steel shone a pure white, like the heart of a sun had been captured in the shape of a sword, and Harry was utterly speechless at the sight.

It was a long time before Harry finally sheathed the weapon and lowered it back into its place with, if possible, even more care than before. Then, finally, he turned his attention to the third item ensconced within the hidden alcove. For a second, Harry wondered if perhaps he had found the material used to craft the blade, so closely did the small round stone match its color and beauty. But no, it was more varied than that, ranging at times closer to the white of freshly fallen snow, and even a paler, more lifeless shade of bone in the veins that ran over its surface. Still, Harry knew it was no natural stone as he touched it lightly, feeling the sheer smoothness of it. Something that fine could only have been crafted by magic, and from the way it was hidden, he assumed the stone and sword were of extreme importance to something. For a moment, he wondered if he hadn't stumbled across the last remains of some ancient and fabled warrior.

After what felt like a long time, Harry finally laid the stone back in its place and picked up the book, wiping away a thick layer of dust. For a second, he wondered how it had accumulated, since the rest of the room was spotless, but pushed it away; magic, as that was obviously what had kept this alcove hidden and protected, worked in strange ways. Even now, he had no idea why it had chosen to reveal itself. After taking a second to admire the quality of the fine leather binding, he took a deep breath and opened it. From the first few words, Harry knew that he had been correct, and this was some kind of journal. Without thought, the young wizard moved to sit at the desk, making himself comfortable, before diving into the words with wild glee.

XXX

 _I am Vrael, last commander of the Riders, and It is my great sorrow to write this, the history of our fall._

Those words haunted Harry as he closed the journal gently, taking a generous swallow of Firewhiskey. It had been three days since he first read them, unknowing of their worth, but now they were etched into his soul by the harrowing account still held in his hand. The journal had been much more than just a journal. It was a full-fledged account of the destruction of a great order, and the ascension of a king that would put Riddle himself to shame. Harry had learned much as he read. The Dragon Riders, as they were known, were an ancient, powerful order of nigh-on-immortal warriors and magicians who spread peace and justice through the land, until, as was ever the case with such groups, they were brought down from within. Galbatorix, the traitor, destoryed the order with his Forsworn followers and razed their entire legacy. Now, Harry was in possession of their last remnant.

He glanced over to the alcove, where the sword and stone-or egg, rather-still lay. According to the journal, they were one of Vrael's own blades, of a kind forged by an elven race that sounded nothing like Harry's own concept of the word, and given only to Riders. The egg, as well, was left by the old grandmaster, laid by his own dragon as they waited to be hunted by Galbatorix and hidden with the blade in the hope that they might one day be found and used against him.

The story both intrigued and worried Harry. He had come to this land, this Alagaesia, to forget about the war, the dead, and all the praise and glory he received as The-Man-Who-Lived. There were other reasons, of course, but those were the most blatant. And now here he was in possession of the only things that could stop an evil, immortal tyrant. The irony wasn't lost on him, especially when the last words in Vrael's journal had been a desperate plea for whoever read it to safeguard the sword and stone both until a new Rider could be found. Sighing, the wizard cast a tempus, and noting the late hour, collapsed into bed. He could worry more about what he would do the next day. For now, Harry was tired.

It was only a few hours later, at most, that Harry was woken by a quiet sound echoing through the small room. In an instant, the man was sitting up, wand clenched tightly in his hand as he scanned the room. There was nothing there, but he continued looking for several seconds, staring into the darkness until another sound made him jump.

 _Oh fuck._ It was that second sound which sent panic icing into Harry's veins, for he recognized it. Years before, he had heard one much like it in Hagrid's hut, staring at a dragon egg as it was about to hatch. He whipped around to look at the alcove with wide eyes, fear and anticipation warring inside him. He was not to be disappointed.

The break, when it came, was sudden. For several long moments, there was only the slight taps and squeaks, deafening in their silence despite their relatively low volume, until all at once the white egg shattered into a thousand pieces. Silently, Harry cast a lumos as he took a slow step forwards to look at the result. The dragonling, somehow, caught Harry off-guard. It was so… adorable. With four stubby legs-four, not two- and a pair of wings to match, it scrabbled on the stones where it had landed right outside the alcove, struggling to stand. Finally, it managed, an instant before sneezing and launching itself back onto its rump.

A chuckle escaped Harry, and in an instant, the dragon looked up at him, light from his spell glinting off its curious eyes. It appeared, perhaps unsurprisingly, much like its egg, a shifting from blinding white chest, back, and head scales to a shade that glistened like fallen snow upon the shoulders and joints, and even the paleness of bone stretching across its leather wings. Even in the innocent and adolescent body that was no larger than a cat, Harry could tell it would be a magnificent beast when it grew. Even the eyes, gleaming in his wand-light like beautiful pearls, held a kindness and wisdom he had rarely seen before, buried underneath the curiosity of a newborn.

The dragon didn't take nearly as long getting to its feet a second time, and as soon as it had, made a beeline for Harry. With no hesitation whatsoever, the small creature rubbed up against his leg, a deep, humming sound emanating from it and sending vibration up the limb. Harry froze at the contact, disbelieving. Hadn't he just learned about how the dragons of Alagesia, and how they chose their Rider? That it had hatched at all was a blatant enough sign, especially with no one else around to take the credit, but… was this really happening?

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Harry wanted to slap himself. Of course it was happening. He was Harry bloody Potter, so it was only to be expected that anything and everything that could possibly cause him trouble would find its way right to him. And if he did this, if he accepted the title of Rider… well, he had been down this road before. Just as it had been then, there would be no turning back. Harry looked down at the tiny dragon, which had by now stopped its rubbing and was staring up at him questioningly, as if to ask why he hadn't rubbed back. And it was in that look, so terribly innocent, and yet with all the weight of the world, that Harry found his answer.

Galbatorix had brought an entire race to the brink of extinction, and slaughtered hundreds, if not thousands, of people dedicated to good. Even if the egg hadn't hatched, if Harry hadn't been chosen, he still would have had to leave the castle and make his way out into the greater world. And when he did, the wizard would inevitably find reasons to fight the monster at every turn. And so it was that he dropped to his knees, staring deep into the dragon's pearlescent gaze, and laid a hand carefully upon its snout.

The pain was like nothing he had ever felt before, as if lightning itself had slid into his veins and tore through every cell of Harry's body. He crashed to the floor, writhing for the few seconds it remained until blissfully, the feeling passed. For a long, long moment he lay there on the cold stone floor, breathing deeply as he calmed his rapidly beating heart. Then, just as he was about to push himself back up, he felt something _touch_ his mind. A wave of worry, confusion, and fear washed over Harry, foreign and yet terribly familiar. At the same time, the Dragon nudged him with its scaly nose, squeaking in concern.

Harry jumped up from where he lay, shocked by the intrusion. Once he was standing, however, his mind caught up with his body, and he paused, looking down at the dragon as it stared at him. Vrael had mentioned in his journal several times that Riders could communicate silently with their dragons. Perhaps that was what was happening here? Slowly, the green-eyed wizard kneeled, laying a hand on the dragon's hide, and reached out.

" _Hello?"_ It was like nothing Harry had ever felt before. Unlike when experiencing an attack from a legilimens, he was untethered from his own mind, the a free spirit to walk the mental plane even without direct contact. But Harry wasn't interested in wandering, instead focusing on the dragon. He could feel the connection between them, a small ribbon of emotion and thought that was expanding ever so slowly. As time went on, Harry could guess, the intricate connection of Rider and dragon would likely grow and expand so they might find each other even over great distances. But for now, it was enough as he touched the dragon's mind lightly, speaking to his surprise, the dragon cocked its head, a questioning emotion flowing from it. Harry frowned, wondering why, until the answer came to him. It was young, and he didn't even know if the spoken language of Alagaesia would be the same anyways. He assumed so, since the written one was similar, but it might not be the case. So, rather than just words, he pushed across the _meaning_ of his message, a greeting and assurance that he was alright. In an instant, an image passed from the dragon, one of him writhing on the floor in pain. Harry shook his head, marveling at the smoothness of its scales as he stroked the dragon's face, and sent his own image, of himself standing tall and proud. After that, it nodded, and The next feeling he recieved was one Harry recognized easily; hunger. With a smile, he rose, moving to the small pack he had set at the end of the bed, and reached in laughing as a storm of curiosity flooded his connection with the dragon when his arm disappeared inside it.

That first night was, perhaps, the strangest, but also one of the best in Harry's life as he fed the dragon from his store of food in the near-infinite space of his bag. He had come prepared when crossing over, stocking himself with nearly a year's worth of raw supplies and hundreds of other items he might need in a harsh and hostile land, ranging from books to several broomsticks to potion supplies. Even a few pairs of formal robes were stored somewhere in the depths of the bag. He didn't waste time thinking on that, however, instead marveling and delighting in the innocence and sheer curiosity of the dragon as it wandered around the room and snapped his thrown meats in a little game, and finally when Harry fell asleep with the rumbling heat of it laying curled up on his stomach.


	2. Chapter 2: Morgana

The first week with his dragon were an interesting experience for Harry. He found himself alternating from utter amusement, blissful peace, and sheer terror as it wandered around the small confines of the castle, getting into any and all sorts of situations that it could find. One moment, the tiny creature would be crawling around the floor, sneezing adorably as the heavy dust found its nose, and the next it would be jumping off a tall bookcase in the library with its wings spread-only to crash into the ground when they failed to hold its weight. Even the minor incident concerning its attempts to eat a book and Harry only just managing to save it left the tome half-burnt and the dragon hacking up charred paper. Harry wasn't quite sure how his dragon managed to burn it, since they weren't supposed to breathe fire for quite a long time, but he suspected a nearby candle and the shrouded memories of him cooking meat with his wand and a fire spell that the dragon tried very hard not to think of.

Besides dealing with an adolescent reptile, however, Harry found his days filled with the discovery and absorption of as much information as he could find in the castle's library. Long hours were spent digging through book after book for as much information he could find on dragons and how to care for them, as well as anything on the Rider's, Galbatorix, or the history of the world as a whole. It was only when the dragon, with a questioning hint to its thoughts, projected an image to Harry of the windows in the great hall and their blue sky beyond, that the wizard realized he hadn't gone outside in days.

Before the dragon hatched, Harry had explored that last staircase in Vrael's study, albeit briefly. Perhaps unsurprisingly now, it had led out onto what appeared to be the roof of the balcony, a massive, open-air balcony that could easily hold several large dragons. The view, as well, was utterly breathtaking. Utgard, as he had learned the fort was named, sat perched atop a great mountain, unreachable to any who could not fly. To the west and north stretched a vast range of mountains, stern and intimidating with their white caps and grim forests. A small valley ran directly past the fortress and into their depths, marked by a deep river, and Harry thought he could see two small clusters of buildings but from the height could not be certain. Southward and to the east were plains, flatlands that spread out wide and further than he could see.

Now, Harry stood staring out at the horizon, his old firebolt clenched in one hand and the ivory dragon at his side. Together they stared over the flimsy railing, trepidation and excitement ringing in equal measure through both of their minds. Harry, because it had been a long time since he flew, especially for pleasure, but also in fear of stepping outside Utgard. It had been a peaceful place for him, the first in this new realm of Alagaesia, and one Harry felt would always hold as a sort of home for him. And the dragon, because it had long wondered about the outside world, recognized only through Harry's memories and the stories he tended to tell as they fell asleep curled together, but also fear as it looked down at the ground, far below.

Noting the emotion in his partner, Harry dropped down and threw his arms around the dragon, rubbing its scales softly. By now it was no longer the size of a small cat, but rather stood at thigh height to him, closer to a large dog. He could see, as well, the distinctive ridge spikes that marked it as a _her,_ female and proud. In response to his hug the dragon snorted, embarrassment at having to be comforted slipping through their bond. Harry smiled against her scales, laughing.

"Come on then." The wizard said, standing, and after only a moment's hesitation, the dragon leaped up onto the railing. It was only when Harry realized that she was about to jump that he shouted in surprise, leaping forward to grab her again. "Woah, not like that! You're nowhere near old enough." he pulled his dragon back, wincing as she threw a wave of annoyance at him, along with derisive questioning as to how they _were_ meant to fly. In answer, he worked to free one arm without releasing her, before using his wand to cast a sticking spell between them. The effect was instantaneous, and Harry couldn't quite hold in a smirk as he felt the dragon squirm. It was perhaps the first time he had used magic on her, and she made it obvious just how much she appreciated the sensation. He ignored the rapid mental complaints and images of burnt and eaten hair to calmly mount his broom. Then, with only a single warning thought, Harry kicked off, soaring into the air.

It was glorious. The instant they were airborne the dragon stopped fighting, instead focusing her attention on gripping the broom tightly with her claws as she lay across it in front of Harry. He didn't mind at all, as the cessation allowed him to revel in the feeling of wind in his hair and speed under his fingertips. Before long, they had reached a peak, and harry allowed the broom to hang there for a moment. His partner, who had been pressing herself tightly against the broom, let out a small whimper, despite Harry's own joy and emotion spilling through their connection. The wizard, for his part, felt a surge of pity for her, but the next instant it was gone, and he tilted the broom downwards to dive like a falcon dropping on its prey. Adrenaline flooded his veins, and the next instant the dragon joined him as her fear was forgotten in the sheer rush.

With a crash of air and sound Harry pulled up at the last second, their feet just touching the ground as they skimmed it for a few seconds before rising. Now the dragon was chittering, excitement and understanding filling it as they pulled into a tight spiral towards one of the nearby mountains. Harry could feel the primal sensation it felt as they flew, ancestral memories flooding their connected minds. They were hunters of the sky in all their glory, and Harry let out a sharp whoop.

They flew for nearly an hour, drifting anywhere from gliding to soaring, to death-defying dives that left both dragon and wizard gasping for breath. Finally, however, the fun was over, and Harry directed them to land at an empty clearing in one of the mountain forests. With swift, assured movements, he unstuck the dragon, before putting his broomstick away. When she cocked her head at him in curiosity, he smiled and explained.

"We've both been cooped up in that castle for far too long." Harry said gently, rubbing her head. "And i figured since we're out here, it's about time you learned to hunt."That statement, as he had expected, was met by an excited tackle as the dragon launched herself at him, squawking happily. It was several long moments until he had disentangled himself, but finally, the unlikely pair set off.

At first, things were relatively peaceful, with Harry's spells and the dragon's surprising stealth as she crept quietly across the forest floor, and soon enough they had bagged several small rabbits and even a fox, bloody from where the dragon had chomped its tail to prevent escape. Fairly soon the two were sitting across a campfire from each other, Harry telling his partner a tale of his old life.

"-And then, Ron threw up the firewhiskey, all over Hermione's front. I swear, I've never seen anything so terrifying as 'Mione on a rampage." Harry's eyes shone as he spoke, the memories of his friends burning in his mind as the dragon hummed a deep, draconic laughter. He had abandoned them, abandoned the Wizarding World as a whole, yet Harry couldn't help but laugh himself, humor winning over the small pang in his heart. Before he could find another story to tell, however, a flicker of movement caught his eye, and the dragon stiffened from where it lay stretched out on the ground.

" _Harry."_ The word, spoken in a quiet, feminine voice, made Harry freeze, and he turned towards his dragon. Eyes like pearls bored into his, and tension slid through the bond between them until Harry's hand gripped his wand tightly as it fell from its sheath. The next second, he had cast a silent supersensory charm, reaching out to their surroundings in a search for anything wrong. Soon enough, he found it, a near-silent crack of wood to one side, and the subtle shifting of weight amongst dry leaves to the other. In an instant, Harry shot to his feet, throwing a stunner in the direction of the first.

Even as he acted, the dragon was already moving with a lightning fast pounce into the treetops, aided by a sharp flap of her wings. A second later, she crashed to the ground atop a large grey form, tearing into it with razor sharp claws. Harry didn't notice, however, as he was too busy dodging wave of three arrows, each flying from a different direction. He dropped, rolling behind the short log he had been sitting on, throwing a small blasting hex as he went. A wet explosion rocked the air as it hit, and he heard a deep, guttural scream. Harry didn't stop to analyze the sound, however, as he threw off two separate cutting curses to split yet another arrow as it drove towards his chest.

The next moment, Harry was no longer dodging arrows, as two forms, even larger than the one the dragon was currently mauling, came charging into the clearing. The wizard got a flash of grey, gravelly skin, and horns, before stepping swiftly to the side to dodge a wickedly curved sword that tore through the spot he had just been in. The next blade he blocked, a simple shield charm sending it to lodge in the armor of its owner's partner. The creature gave a guttural roar and tore it back out, before throwing it at Harry's head haphazardly. He ducked, and while crouching fired a Reducto point blank into its stomach. He winced as blood splattered all over him from the giant hole his spell blew in it. Still, the wizard kept his wits about him, turning to the other creature even as it bull rushed him; quite literally, considering the large curved horns on its head.

He couldn't quite avoid the charge, and Harry cried out in pain as the creature struck him a glancing blow across his flank, sending him rolling into the ground. He kept his grip on the wand in his hand, but that was rendered useless a moment later when the thing landed atop him, one powerful hand pinning other he found clasped around his throat, squeezing tightly. Harry's eyes bulged as he started to choke, staring at his adversary. A cruel, monstrous face glared down at him with utter hatred and fury in its pudgy gray eyes, and his nose wrinkled from the putrid scent of its breath.

"Die, human." The creature, whatever it was, growled in a voice like grinding stones, sneering as it pressed its face close to his. Harry struggled against its grip, writhing and gripping, but the creature was far too strong for him, and intelligent enough not to loosen its grip on his wand arm. Slowly, he grew even weaker as the world started to darken, the edges of his vision fading.

" _You shall not have him!"_ Just as Harry felt himself slipping from consciousness, there came a roar, higher pitched than the others but with a primal fury that would have sent shivers through him had he not been so close to death, and an instant later the pressure was lifted from his throat as the creature went flying to the side. He gasped loudly, gulping in a deep breath, and then another. Finally, when he could no longer feel the burning of his lungs, he struggled up onto his elbows.

All around was carnage. Six corpses of the horned beings were scattered across the campsite, torn and blasted by both spellfire and savage claw marks that Harry knew instinctively came from his dragon. Speaking of, the ivory reptile was crouched in the centre of it all, her beautiful white scales splashed in crimson to paint the image of a terrible beast amidst its slaughtered foes. Yet, as he looked at her, Harry felt no fear. At least, not for himself.

" _Are… you alright?_ " Harry tentatively reached out with his mind to the dragon, wary of the sea of rage he felt coming from her. The moment he touched, however, it calmed, and she turned to look at him with pearl eyes.

" _Harry._ " For the third time, though only the second he quite recognized, Harry heard that soft, feminine voice, now filled with a warmth and relief that he scarcely believed possible. The next instant, she was at his side, nuzzling gently against him. Harry stared dumbstruck at the dragon.

"You talk?" He asked, not entirely certain he wasn't dreaming. The books he had read did say she would speak eventually, or at least as close to it as dragons could get with thought-speech, but… it was really early.

" _Yes._ " Was her only answer, besides snuggling even closer, her humming warmth comfortable against Harry's side. Almost without thinking, he wrapped an arm around her body, humming back. For a long time, they sat there, reveling in each other's existence even as Harry realised that he could have been killed.

It was a strange thought to have, surprisingly. Not necessarily the dying part, he had faced that often enough in his school years that the threat of death meant little to him personally. But somehow, Harry found himself filled with a cold dread as he looked at the bodies around him and his dragon, then down at the great reptile herself. Just how deeply did their bond extend, he wondered? It had been hardly a week, at best, and yet somehow he couldn't see himself without her at his side, any less than the reverse. It was a shocking revelation.

"So…" harry wasn't quite sure why he started speaking, perhaps simply as a way to break the silence, but when the dragon perked up slightly, curious, he found himself somehow continuing. "So… I think you should have a name." The dragon, turning its head fully to looke at him, blinked. Then he felt a wave of amusement crashing through the bond.

" _Of course._ " She didn't say anything else, but Harry got the feeling that she was waiting for something. Surprised at the suddenness of the conversation, the wizard desperately cast his mind around, searching for a name. Sifting through all the female names Harry knew, he finally came up with two that seemed to fit.

"Well, there's Morgana. She was a great sorceress, and companion to Merlin, the most powerful wizard to ever live." Something in the dragon's eyes sparkled, and Harry felt rush of embarrassment starting to creep in. It sounded kind of pathetic, when he thought of it. But still, there was a slight hum from the dragon, and she nodded slightly.

" _Perhaps._ " For a second, the wizard wondered if that was an affirmative, but she simply continued to stare at him until he grew slightly uncomfortable.

"Er, there's also Rowena. She… well she was one of the Founders, and really wise and clever."Again, the dragon hummed, and Harry found himself wondering what had brought on this sudden change in demeanor. In the time since hatching, she seemed so curious and bright, if a little snarky in her emotions. Now, however, the dragon seemed almost different in the wake of the attack, as if something had changed in her. Perhaps it was killing the creatures-which he still had not identified- or perhaps it was seeing Harry nearly die, but she seemed… quieter, somehow. And slightly more grown up. He was drawn away from his thoughts, however, when the dragon finally spoke up.

" _I am… Morgana._ " Harry shivered as the words echoed through his mind, and the newly named Morgana gave a draconic grin. " _And you are my rider._ " For a long moment, there was only silence as Dragon and Rider stared into each other's eyes. And then Harry smiled, and nodded.

"Always."

XXX

 **Alright, so that's finished, and damn, what is with you guys and crossovers, I swear. They're like fanfiction crack or something. Also, why all the reviews that literally just consist of "Good job, looking forward to more."? I mean, really, if you're going to take the time, at least put something with more substance. Maybe tell me a particular thing you liked, or something I could've done better. And if you do, make sure to leave it with an** _ **actual**_ **account, so I can respond. To the one person who** _ **did**_ **leave a sizable review, thank you very much for your comments, and yes, I put quite a bit of effort into Harry, and hope to do so more in the future.**

 **So, before I let you go, I just have a couple more things to say. First, this shall hopefully be the last of the short chapters. It is, primarily, a mix of it being late at night, and me wanting to get the ball rolling. Next time expect much more content, more development of Morgana, and quite possibly leaving Utgard behind. Also, to any fans who are artistically inclined: I will be putting out a request for cover-arts for** _ **all**_ **my stories, and more besides if anyone feels obliged. Please, if you feel any desire, I would love to see any art of my works, since I absolutely suck at it, and can barely draw stick figures.**

 **Anyways, that should be it for now, so without further ado, I will see you later, and don't forget to Review!**


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